


You Were Just Around the Corner From Me

by SBG



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Idiots, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBG/pseuds/SBG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Or, Five Times Steve and Danny Had Sex in the Silverado, and One Time They Didn't). It's just stress relief, nothing more. Both of them believe it, so it must be true.  Set at end of S5, through early S6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were Just Around the Corner From Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. So. This has been in the works since [Life in Plastic, It's ... Fantastic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4644570) and it all kind of stems from that fic, which is alluded to vaguely in this one. To save face, a vast majority of this was written only in the past two weeks, after epic writer's block confounded me at every turn. Really. I swear. It did not take me months to write this.
> 
> Title yoinked from lyrics from Pete Yorn's "Life on a Chain". 
> 
> Also, the guys are not always very nice in this. In fact, it might be uncomfortable in spots, dubious in others.

The bright sunlight was as cheery and rainbow-filled as it ever was. The fragrant blooms of the islands filled his nose. The breeze held a hint of saline warmth, so familiar to him now it almost made him relax to feel it. Grace’s sweet voice washed over him like comfort, home, absolution from his sins. All of these things should have been enough for him to be sure. 

None of it did.

Danny couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t here, that none of it was real. Grace’s arm around his torso, careful and warm, felt as solid as any kick he’d endured to the same part of his body. He had to choose that in this moment, no matter what, it was real if only to keep himself going. He bit back the hysterical laugh that wanted to bubble out of him. It didn’t even make sense, to believe for the sake of believing. This must be what it was to lose your mind, he thought. Somehow, it all seemed too perfect to be genuine. Being here, with his daughter when he’d never imagined it possible, it might be in his head. After all, if he wanted he could mentally rebuild Grace’s face from the time she was a baby until now, snapshots of memories. Fuck, his head was such a mess. He closed his eyes, tipped his face to the sky, saw his sweet girl as a brand new baby, as a toddler, as the nearly grown girl she was back on the island. Back here.

“Are you okay, Danno?” Grace asked.

He opened his eyes. Grace stared at him, mouth downturned, her whole face a grimace of worry. He wouldn’t imagine that kind of burden for his child to bear, yet he’d gone and made it happen anyway. He thought he’d been doing the right thing, but now he knew there was no such thing. Danny let out a shaky breath, took Grace’s arm from around him and held onto her hands. He didn’t want to scare her. He wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but he opened his mouth and nothing came out. He didn’t know how to answer the question with the honesty she deserved, not without upsetting her more. It was a mistake, coming here feeling like he did. He hadn’t had a choice, couldn’t stay away. 

“I think your dad might have overdone it for today, Gracie,” someone said. “That’s all.”

Steve’s voice. Steve. Of course, it was Steve who had driven him here to see Grace. He remembered the blur of scenery, the weight of words unspoken between them. Danny shifted, his body aching too much to move much or quickly. He’d gone a bit overboard, embracing Grace earlier, but how could he have not done that? He squeezed her hands gently, reluctant to let them go. 

“Oh.” Grace pulled herself free and stood in front of Danny. She ruffled his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead, a complete role reversal. “Then it’s probably a good idea if you take him home to rest now, Uncle Steve. You can come back tomorrow when you feel better, right, Dad?”

Danny’s eyes prickled slightly, which made him blink a few times in rapid succession. He turned his gaze to Steve, towering above him and Grace both. Steve looked back at him, seeming impassive for a moment, but then, no. Beneath the surface, there was more. Steve was always like that, at least in his head. Still waters. There was something about the deep stillness of water that terrified Danny, and drew him in at the same time. He couldn’t stop himself, though he knew he should. All the endless fathoms of the water had ever given him was misery. He blinked one more time, and then it was just Steve and Grace and it was so fitting that it was them here with him. He was ninety percent sure they were as real as he needed them to be, and that was all that mattered. They were all that kept him going most days.

One of them knew it and one never could. 

“Of course. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow, Monkey,” Danny said at last, hoarse and strained. He didn’t know why he’d hit this wall so hard; he’d been faking it to make it for hours. A few minutes with his precious girl should have been a cakewalk. If he was here. He shook his head. “I just need some sleep.” 

“I’m so glad you’re home,” Grace said. She hugged him gently and said, “Thank you for bringing him back, Uncle Steve.”

Someone made a sound, like a barely-stifled cough and, in his state, Danny wasn’t sure if it was him. It might have been, probably was. He looked at Steve, willing the guy to get him out of there before he started really losing it in front of Grace. He caught the tail end of an odd expression fading from Steve’s face, one he’d seen before but hadn’t yet catalogued.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart,” Steve said.

Then, and it seemed suddenly, Danny was back in the passenger seat of Steve’s monstrosity of a vehicle. He gazed on passing scenery he couldn’t say was real or a figment of his mind. He had a sudden horrifying thought that it would be like this forever, and he couldn’t live with the stress of uncertainty or the constant thought he must be crazy enough for powerful hallucinations. He shook his head, heard the tinny sound of horrible music ringing in his ears. He couldn’t find any reason he’d build a fantasy to include Steve’s taste in tunes. And it had to mean something that he had yet to ever find himself back _there_. He wanted to be sure of that, but didn’t know how to shake the doubt that this wasn’t real, and he was dying in a filthy Colombian prison. A touch to his left hand, tightly clenched against his thigh, startled him.

“Danny,” Steve said softly, putting pressure on Danny’s hand. “You with me here?”

The gentleness in touch and tone was what Danny noticed first, then the question filtered through. It was simple, to the point, and told him Steve had some idea what was going on with him. He wanted to cry, from relief, from exhaustion, from he wasn’t even sure what. Reaction, at last, from all that had happened in the last week, maybe even the last few months. From everything. He hadn’t gotten any absolution, not like he needed. 

“I’m not sure,” Danny said and then tensed as if for a blow. In case he wasn’t here at all. “I think so. Yeah, probably.”

Steve didn’t say anything right away, leaving them in silence. Danny realized they had stopped, were parked on a side street somewhere, the cab of the truck quiet except for his own semi-labored breathing. His ribs ached (like someone was kicking him even now) and his head was splitting in two. 

“What does that mean?” Steve asked.

Danny realized Steve’s hand was still on top of his. Bigger than his, longer fingers. He stared down at it, blinked a few times when Steve pulled away quickly.

“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.”

“Danny.”

“It was … It’s just, back there,” Danny said, then swallowed. “Back there, when they were beating the shit out of me, all I could think about was here. Grace. You. The rest of Five-0. You. The images, they were so clear it was like I was actually here. When it was the worst, you know, at least I wasn’t there for it.”

He couldn’t explain it without sounding even more batshit so Danny stopped and simply looked over at his partner. Steve studied him with a careful expression, almost blank. It was so Steve that it was strangely comforting. He shook his head and shrugged. He didn’t know how he always ended up spilling his guts to Steve, when the reverse was never true. He didn’t know why he couldn’t let loose this _want_ for something he was never going to get. Not the way he wanted.

Steve nodded at him, though, and unbuckled his seatbelt, pushed his seat back as far as it would go and slid his arm across the rest close enough to bump elbows with Danny. They sat, unspeaking, for long enough Danny began to feel an uneasy sense of déjà vu. His mind filling in the gaps with what he knew, maybe. Or maybe not. He was tired of everything.

“Now you can’t be sure you’re here,” Steve said. 

Yeah, so Steve did get it. Danny cringed as he considered that for Steve, the kind of weaving in and out of reality had actually, physically happened. It had been chemically induced, not from a naturally fractured mind like his. He was so fucked in the head right now.

“Am I?”

Steve twisted, on him with stealth that spoke of his infuriating training. Danny didn’t have it in him to fight it as Steve somehow hauled him into a straddling position on his lap with such skill his injuries didn’t scream at him. _Still a Neanderthal after all these years,_ Danny thought, dizzy with the change in position and the surreality that was all too familiar The steering wheel was hard at his back and Steve was solid beneath him, hot and smoot. He remembered that feeling. He remembered telling himself it hadn’t meant a thing. 

“Does this feel real?” Steve murmured into his ear, butt of one hand rubbing at Danny’s dick through his pants. He took Danny’s hand and pressed it against his own crotch. “How about this? Let me get you out of your head.”

Danny let out a half-chuckle. He didn’t know if this maneuver of Steve’s was enough. Physical sensations could be imagined, and god knew he’d had plenty of nearly-tangible fantasies. Trust Steve to think that sex would fix it. If nothing else, though, his body knew what to do even if his brain would never quite catch up. He edged closer, ground against Steve, wishing he could say the cry of pleasure that escaped him was more than proof of life. This, at least for the immediate moment, was better than pain. Through the sensations overtaking him, he reasoned that this was real to a degree, and then it would cease to be so. Like before. Like always. 

Danny found a rhythm with Steve anyway. He would take what he could get. Like before. Like always.

H50H50H50

When he was a kid, he sometimes played this vintage game his mom had picked up at a garage sale or something. _Don’t Cook Your Goose._ It was all about balance, and if his memory served, he’d been pretty good at it. The ability to balance tiny plastic geese on the teetering lid of a fake saucepan eventually translated into other, real facets of his life. The thing was, though, in the game sometimes a person just spun the wrong number and no amount of strategic goose placement would keep the balance. Same was true for life in general. While Steve didn’t allow himself to get unbalanced when he had control, sometimes control was taken out of his hands. It took a lot for that to happen, but when it did, he usually felt like he was in a tailspin.

Catherine showing up out of the blue constituted a lot. Fooling around with Danny, also a lot. Those were two things he’d never imagined happening at all, let alone in such close proximity to each other, yet it had and here he was as a result, one uncontrolled, unbalanced mess. On the one hand, his feelings for Cath all came flooding back the second he’d laid eyes on her – the good, the bad and the ugly of them. He could almost convince himself that no time had passed, so steadying was her effect on him. Somehow despite dropping out of his life, she still signified stability; everything any normal person would need. Despite the last year of uncertainty, she was a known quantity. She was the white picket fence and two point five kids, the American dream. He knew what kind of life he’d have with her.

On the other, Danny. Just, _Danny_ , who was nothing like what he needed and somehow everything at the same time. Danny was the unknown, the terrifying maybe.

And it was Danny he had to work hardest to main control around now. Steve wished he understood why. He supposed he was something of a masochist, setting his sights on the unattainable. He had met every professional goal he’d ever wanted to achieve, but on a personal level, he felt like he’d never once gotten there. He hadn’t made it a priority, true, but things had been okay. With Cath. They’d been … fine. Until she left him, and then he realized as far as he was concerned the only person he’d ever felt more than just _fine_ with was Danny. Even before he’d foolishly put his hands and his mouth on the guy, something in him had always clicked with Danny.

That was the problem. Imbalance. Danny had never shown any genuine sign that he was invested in anything beyond the physical gratification and for Danny, the lack might as well be broadcast on the nightly news. In the five years he’d been partnered with the guy, Steve had never known him to not show his hand about anything, from the mundane to the ridiculous. Danny was a man of many opinions and no filters. Steve had no idea what it meant that when it came to the sex they’d had Danny was an emotional vault, other than it was hopeless to expect anything from his own unresolved issues. If Danny felt anything, it would show. Steve knew this to be true. He knew it. Yet it didn’t seem to put a damper on his feelings. 

“So, what’re you gonna do?” Danny asked.

Steve had known it was a mistake, meeting Danny at the overlook. He’d figured, hell, if the spot worked for Danny clearing his head it might work for him too. He hadn’t been able to think of any excuse to say no when Danny had asked, and he knew Danny was there as an ambassador of sorts for the rest of the team. It wasn’t that Danny had any real stake in him and Cath. It was information gathering. And despite the fact his tactic in dealing with his unreturned feelings for his partner was to push back, hide them with sharp barbs and insults, it was still always Danny he turned to most when he had stuff on his mind. Like he’d said, he was a masochist. 

“I don’t know, man,” Steve said, stared across the cityscape and ocean instead of at Danny sitting next to him in the truck. “It’s _Catherine._ ”

“Yeah. Catherine.”

See, there. That unsubtle tone of derision Danny managed to convey in a two-word response was a prime example of his partner’s inability to hide his feelings. Danny’s opinion was plain, but Danny by nature was a skeptic; he viewed Catherine’s sudden reappearance with suspicion. Steve was actually grateful for that, because though he’d been flooded with emotions since he saw her, part of him also wondered why. Why now? Knowing he wasn’t alone in that made him feel like he wasn’t such a wretch for thinking it. Trust Danny to… shit, there he went again, warm fondness rushing through him, and for what? Danny being Danny. 

“Part of me thinks I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth here.” Steve’s mouth was dry, like he could barely get the words out. “She’s back. That’s a good thing, right?”

Danny snorted, said nothing. 

Steve looked over, catching a strange expression fade from Danny’s face, though his partner was also looking out the window rather than at him. His profile against a backdrop of blue, blue water was beautiful. Steve tensed up and looked away. This had been such a bad idea. He was here to talk about Catherine, what it meant now that she was back and he couldn’t stop this slow burn of attraction for Danny even now. He’d been trying for so long now, combatting it the only way he knew how. The less he was able to keep his misplaced feelings under control, the more he acted like Danny was an annoyance. He lashed out to make sure Danny knew how unimportant Steve found him, very aware how immature his defense mechanism was. How completely opposite of the truth.

“You’re not going to tell me you don’t have an opinion,” Steve said, shifting in his seat. “You, of all people can’t not have an opinion on this. You have opinions on _everything_.”

Danny stared at him at that, his attention pulled in by words or tone. It didn’t matter to Steve which. What mattered was the serious, almost sad expression on his partner’s face. He’d done that. He’d put that look there. He understood that part; what he wasn’t sure of was what exactly caused it – the hardly veiled insult he’d just delivered or something more.

“I think my opinion isn’t going to change what you’re going to do,” Danny said. 

“But I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“I can’t give you the answer, Steve. I’ve never been able to do that before, why would this be any different?”

Now it was Steve’s turn to snort. He’d lobbed that ball for Danny to catch, of course he’d throw it back at him. It was what they did these days. He clenched his jaw.

“See, that, right there,” Danny said.

“What?” 

“Your jaw is working overtime, babe. You want my opinion? Fine. Here it is. I think you’d made some peace with Catherine not coming back, but then she did and your world has been turned upside down again. My opinion is that you can’t let control slip in any way and if it does, you get stymied and that’s why you don’t know what to do.”

Steve did his best not to take Danny’s assessment like the very accurate punch to the gut it was. 

“Stymied?”

“That’s what I said. Look at you,” Danny said. He let out a long, loud breath. “You’re so tense about this it’s no wonder you can’t figure out which way is up. I think that you can make life and death decisions in a fraction of a second but when it comes to personal stuff, you’ve had too much shit thrown at you to be so certain.”

“So I just need to relax and it’ll all clear up for me?” Steve said, tenser than ever. Danny was still staring at him and the air seemed stifled. “Just like that.”

“You asked for my thoughts.” Danny’s eyes were sharp, as icy as his voice. “You got them.”

“That’s your advice. You want me to relax. I suppose you have ideas on how I should do that, being the epitome of relaxation yourself.”

“Asshole,” Danny grumbled as he moved, fairly launching himself over the center console. He straddled Steve awkwardly, leaning in close. “Push back.”

In his defense, it came from out of nowhere. Steve finally figured it out when Danny twisted and leaned, planted his own feet and slid the seat back as far as it would go, which wasn’t that far. It was enough for Danny, apparently, and an intense feeling of déjà vu washed over him at the same time his pants were being unzipped. Danny moved with singular focus, managed to get himself tucked into the footwell, head precariously close to the steering wheel. Steve forgot, sometimes, how small Danny was in stature, so large was his presence in every other way.

He grabbed two handfuls of hair at the back of Danny’s head, automatic reaction to the wet heat of a mouth taking him in. Steve spared half a thought to the idea they were in a public place, but Danny’s mouth and tongue obliterated reason. He had no capacity to say no anyway, he never had with Danny, and he’d thought about what Danny’s mouth could do and now he knew Danny had skill, oh shit oh holy mother of… 

“God, Danny,” Steve groaned, tilted his head, already hurtling to the edge. 

“Mmmph,” Danny hummed around him. 

Steve arched as he came, his muscles caught in the rigidity of sudden orgasm, pinned in place by Danny’s hands on his hips. He gasped through the aftershocks, while Danny kept the suction going, gentle and sure. Steve felt loose-limbed and numb, realized his fingers were tangled in Danny’s hair and that his partner was pulling away. He let his hands fall, watched Danny tuck him in and zip his pants, crawl slowly over to the passenger side door and get out of the truck.

“I’ll see you later,” Danny said without emotion. He smoothed his hair into place. He chewed the corner of his red, perhaps a little swollen lip. “Maybe you’ll be able to think clearly now, you look pretty relaxed.”

The door slammed shut and Steve stared at Danny’s back as he walked away, unsure if he was more confused than ever, or angry. He knew whatever he and Danny were doing couldn’t keep happening. He couldn’t take knowing how invested he was and how uninvested Danny appeared to be. Whether he’d intended it or not, Danny had given him the answer. Steve knew what he had to do. It was for the best.

H50H50H50

_It’s over._

The text itself didn’t say much, but Danny couldn’t shake the vaguely ill feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was the same sensation he’d had for a solid month, maybe two, but amplified. If pressed, he could always blame it on the current drama related to Rachel shortchanging him on years of his son’s life, or the fact that his newly-named son was seriously ill. Truthfully, those things probably had a hand in his unease. They were parts of a sum which also included Steve. Catherine and Steve. There was something there that made him uncomfortable, but he wasn’t sure what yet. Something more than his own issues with Steve, the misguided sex he really didn’t try to think about. 

If he were a good person, Danny would be happy for Steve. Apparently he wasn’t, because despite his efforts to be positive, he couldn’t be. He was a miserable wretch who couldn’t even come up with a definitive reason why. Still, he sucked it up. At the end of the day, what was important was Steve’s happiness and he had to face the facts – Catherine made Steve happy. Steve was so ecstatic to have her back that he was ready to pop the question without making sure Catherine had his best interests at heart, so Danny did what he had to do. He had his friend’s back, all the way.

Danny wondered if Steve ever thought about their hook-ups, the way he thought about them whenever he had quiet moments and his brain couldn’t be distracted. 

_It’s over._ Steve had texted not five minutes ago, and hadn’t yet responded to Danny’s question mark in reply. No, of course Steve didn’t think of their exploits. Danny wasn’t romanticizing the thing between him and Steve, not by any means. He didn’t even count the incidents as real; if he did, he’d have to consider it cheating on Melissa. Who was great, when he remembered to think about her, or talk to her or see her. He was working on the happily ever after thing himself. He was. That was why he spent so much time thinking about his partner instead of her. God, he would also have to consider that he was colossally messed up and an asshole. He was king of the assholes.

 _??_ he texted to Steve, then _talk to me._

Nothing. Here was a truth about himself: he couldn’t leave well enough alone, so no way could he leave piss poor alone. While he wouldn’t call Steve a man of many words, the two word phrase and then silence seemed ominous. It could mean several different things, but Danny had no way of knowing what and it would eat at him until he could lay eyes on his partner and make sure he was okay. He shoved his phone into his pocket, grabbed the car keys and was out the door. If Steve didn’t want him showing up, then he should have given him some reason not to. 

Danny didn’t even consider that he might walk in on Steve and Catherine until he was half a block from Steve’s house. The belatedly-formed concern was proven unfounded as he pulled up and saw Steve, alone, sitting in the passenger seat of the truck with the door still open. Steve looked … awful. Somehow bereft and hard at the same time, tense with something Danny didn’t have a name for yet. Catherine was nowhere to be seen. That pit in his stomach wasn’t getting any better, but he also couldn’t help the other flutter of relief. 

“Steve?” Danny said, announcing himself well before he got close to his partner. “Steve, what’re you doing out here?”

Steve stared at him, expression confused for a moment. None of it was like him. Not the sadness, not the quiet, not the confusion. He blinked.

“Catherine left,” Steve said dully. “Pretty sure she lied about why.”

Damn. Danny rocked back on his heels a bit, surprised by that information. Then he started to get angry. On the list of things Danny cared about, the why of Catherine Rollins’s latest abandonment of his partner was at the very, very bottom. It was virtually non-existent. He didn’t ask for elaboration, doubted Steve would want to do share that anyway. Instead, he just stepped closer and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder. He felt his own stab of betrayal, as Catherine had all but prom…but then, no. She hadn’t, he realized. Danny had heard what he’d wanted to hear when he confronted her about her intentions. He squeezed Steve’s shoulder.

“I don’t know why I keep …” Steve didn’t finish, the hardness in his countenance overriding anything else that might have been there. He shook his head, his jaw clenching as he looked at the ground. 

“No,” Danny said, having a good idea where Steve was headed and his own anger was hitting a peak. “Catherine’s gone and I’m sorry about that, babe, but that is on her, not you. I don’t care what her reasoning was or what’s going on in that thick skull of yours, it was all her. There is nothing that you could possibly do to cause other people to treat you like shit. Not one thing.”

He was almost breathless by the time he finished talking. It was hardly the longest diatribe he’d ever tossed Steve’s way, but it felt more weighted. Steve was a guy who drove him bugfuck nuts most of the time and Steve knew it, so he hoped that helped strengthen the argument. Hell, he wasn’t even a bastion of self-worth himself and even he could muster enough to know when he was being crapped on for no valid reason. It happened to him often enough to recognize the signs.

At some point, Steve had raised his head and was now looking at Danny with fire in his eyes. Good. That was good, except Danny realized how close he stood and that his hand was still clamped on Steve’s shoulder. His arm ached slightly at the angle, damn tall truck. He moved to withdraw to a saner distance, halted by a sudden change in position. Suddenly, Steve stood behind him while he was awkwardly pressed against the side of the passenger seat. He felt Steve, hard against his back, the warm heat a second before Steve’s mouth was on his nape, sucking.

“Steve,” he said, knowing what he should say and do. Stop this. He choked on the words, practically bit his tongue instead.

Steve humped against him, relentless and bordering on brutal as he was pushed further against the seat and his shoulder was bitten through his shirt. The rough treatment was turning him on and his mental protest vanished in favor of pure lust. Danny pushed back into Steve, tacit encouragement. Steve simply grunted and fumbled a hand around to Danny’s aroused cock, rubbed him off through his pants. It was fast, it was without any tiny hint of tenderness, as if Steve was trying to scare him off or make him understand some deep, dark truth. 

Danny knew when Steve came by the muffled grunt of pleasure, the way all frantic motion stilled into dead calm. He thought for one horrifying second that Steve was just going to use him and leave him hanging. Their harsh breathing and the faint traffic noise was all he could hear, and he realized with some embarrassment how public they were. Danny started to shift out from under Steve, salvage some amount of dignity though he still ached with the need for release. It seemed to spur Steve back into action. 

Steve’s teeth bit deeper into his flesh, butt of his hand pressing against Danny’s cock at the same time. Two quick rubs and Danny came, gasping a hoarse shout and prickly with the pleasure yanked out of him. He slumped forward, forehead on the seat, not sure in that hazy, stupid post-sex way of what had just happened. He knew one thing to be true, though, he would not hesitate to let Steve do this again if it was what he needed. Clothed or naked. Whatever he need. If this was reaction to Catherine’s abandonment, so be it. He got it. He did. There was very little he wouldn’t do if Steve needed him to. He was fucked, knew Steve couldn’t and didn’t feel the same, now more than ever.

“Not one thing?” Steve said, but pivoted and stalked into the house before Danny could look him in the eye with an answer.

Which, god help him, Danny had to admit was no.

H50H50H50

These were the things Steve knew. Catherine had left him. Danny hadn’t. Catherine had faked her reasons for leaving. Danny had every reason to, but hadn’t. Danny also hadn’t punched him, not then and not since. Danny hadn’t quit, hadn’t walked off the job or asked for reassignment. Danny was still by his side every day, his usual acerbic self.

What Steve didn’t know was what to do with that. He was used to people leaving. He knew how to cope with that. He was sure now it couldn’t work between him and Cath, something he suspected long ago but hadn’t wanted to admit to himself. He had been willing and she’d still fled and he was done. He didn’t know, though, how to react to Danny’s lack of reaction – to the thing they kept doing or to Steve crossing a big line the last time. He pulled into a parking space, shut off the engine and closed his eyes briefly.

He didn’t know what he’d been thinking, except maybe he’d been seeking to regain some control after Cath had lobbed him a major curveball. It was either that or, and this felt even worse to him, he’d been subconsciously punishing Danny. For sucking him off and walking away like it was nothing or for just being Danny. Who he was pretty sure he loved. No matter how he looked at it, it wasn’t good. It weighed on him constantly, and Danny’s lack of acknowledgment only made it harder to bear. 

To be fair, Danny had a lot going on. A son he’d missed out on the first, important years of knowing, sick. A bone marrow donation. Steve had to put things into perspective. On the scale of things important to Danny right now, whatever it was they were doing had to be low ranking. Steve was a man used to taking what he could get, but for his own sanity, he knew he had to get a grasp on his feelings for his partner. Despite it all, Danny stayed. Steve found hope in that, hope that he could make his own amends to forcing himself on Danny, even if Danny would rather pretend it hadn’t happened that way. Hope they’d find some balance. He desperately needed balance with Danny.

But for now, Steve had to get out of his head and go get Danny out of the hospital. He smiled to himself, picturing Danny chomping at the bit to be released. 

When he made his way to Danny’s room, he wasn’t surprised to find Danny dressed, ready to go and finishing what appeared to have been an intense argument with a nurse over a wheelchair, judging by how pale and wiped out Danny looked. Steve had done a fair amount of reading on bone marrow donation and he knew it could take a while to feel one hundred percent again but trust Danny to regain his argumentative nature first. Round two (or ten) seemed about ready to start as he approached.

“Is he giving you a hard time?” Steve asked the nurse.

“Mr. Will–”

“Detective,” Danny interrupted, fatigue and irritation plain.

“As I was trying to say, Mr. Williams doesn’t seem to understand hospital policy regarding patients who are being released after his type of procedure _and_ who’ve had a recent dose of strong pain medication,” the nurse said, firm but not unkind. If anything, she looked amused, possibly flirtatious as she glanced at Danny. “He’ll comply when he passes out, I’m sure.”

“I’m not going to pass out.”

“Tell me that in fifteen minutes, when you’re drooling.”

Yes, Steve thought, there was flirting happening. He … didn’t much care to witness it. 

“Don’t worry. I know exactly how to handle him,” Steve said, talking above his partner, the way he knew Danny hated.

That earned him an expected glare of ire from Danny, but beneath it was something more like shock. Maybe hurt. The grin Steve had been working on faltered. He was uncertain what had prompted that kind of reaction out of Danny. Then he considered what he’d said, cringed. In the next half a moment, any indication of Danny’s reaction was gone, but it had been enough. Steve knew Danny was going against type and burying things. Danny’s words confirmed it.

“Ignore him. Despite what he thinks,” Danny said without a glance to Steve, “nobody _handles_ me.”

“I don’t know why, but under other circumstance I would absolutely believe that,” the nurse said, laughing. “In this case, get in the chair and let him handle steering you out of here.”

“Fine, but only because it’ll get me out of here faster.” Danny huffed and sat. “I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure.”

Pain had a way of making an average person irritable to the point of rude. Dany was no average person. Steve gave the nurse a sympathetic head bob before he wheeled Danny out.

“And don’t let him tell you he hasn’t already been to see his son,” the nurse called.

Steve almost smiled at the way Danny shot a hand up, one finger raised. Despite the defiance of the gesture, the arm fell quickly and Danny slumped into the chair. The nurse had mentioned pain medication; the control freak in him wanted to know exactly what Danny’s discharge plan had been, but he didn’t ask. He’d clear his calendar if he had to, if only Danny said he wanted help. It had to be Danny’s call. 

Danny didn’t like to be handled.

By the time they got to the truck, Steve had resolved to hash it out with Danny, but Danny had decided to sleep, his eyes closed and his head lolling a few times. Steve knew it would have to wait. He stared at Danny’s face, relaxed, none of the stress lines he usually carried visible. He thought about it for a second, decided the trip would go easier if Danny lay on the back seat. He wrestled with his semi-conscious partner to get him situated, then turned the rearview mirror so he could keep an eye on his partner. Danny didn’t move a muscle until Steve pulled up to his place and turned the truck off, giving only a soft, sleepy snort when Steve opened the back door and shook his foot. He climbed into the truck, crouched awkwardly in the tight space.

“We’re home,” he said softly, placing a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

Danny didn’t rouse, looked peaceful, like this was the first good sleep he’d ever had. Steve sat back on his heels, reluctant to disturb that. He studied Danny, wished for so many things he would never have. He cupped a hand to the side of Danny’s face, the scruff tickling against his palm. It felt too real, more real than he knew it could be. 

“I’m sorry, Danny.”

Finally, as if he’d heard, Danny showed signs of life, turning his face into Steve’s hand. Common sense told him now would be the time to retreat. He used to be strong. Taking a deep breath first, Steve pressed closer. Danny’s eyes opened a crack. For one brief second there was nothing but joy in them, and the look was accompanied by a lopsided grin.

“Hi,” Danny said, raspy. “Is it that time?”

Steve’s mind raced, connecting the expression on Danny’s face with the question. He swallowed, started to withdraw his hand. Danny’s hand snaked up and grabbed his, returned it to his cheek, but not before kissing it. 

“Danny,” he said. “You’re stoned.”

“Nope.” Danny’s free hand snaked around the back of Steve’s neck, pulled him closer. “Come here.”

It was a terrible idea. It was broad daylight, Danny was compromised and _he_ was supposed to be fixing this. Danny’s eyes were clear. Steve climbed onto the back seat, knees bracketing Danny’s thighs, one arm keeping the weight from landing too heavily on his partner. God, that smile. He glanced at the bulge in Danny’s pants, squirmed a little until his own cock lined up with it. The amount of friction it took to get him hard was nominal and embarrassing. 

“Danny,” Steve said again. 

But then Danny arched slightly, and it all became a blur. Reason and Danny, they didn’t mix as far as Steve was concerned. Instinct. Need. Jesus he was a fucking mess, that he couldn’t stop doing this. The sounds Danny made under him were loud in the small space of the truck cab, familiar enough to him now that he could adjust his movements to yank them from Danny.

Hands at his waistband had him pause, but not for long. He moaned as his cock was freed, at the touch of Danny’s callused hands stroking him. Steve buried his face in Danny’s neck, ground down as gently as his overstimulated body would allow, came with an inarticulate moan. Danny kept moving, a few more jerks of his hand, roll of his hips and his cry was louder, beautiful. Horrible. 

“Nobody handles me, Steve,” Danny said as he clumsily wriggled out from under him, “unless I let them.”

H50H50H50

The laughter and voices floating out into the corridor had made Danny pause before entering HQ. He hadn’t been in the mood for joking around, hadn’t been for a while, since it had become tiresome that the joking inevitably came at his expense even if it hadn’t begun that way. He’d frowned, considered how personal the jibes had become, at least from Steve. That was his own fault, of course. He’d been a dick for months. He supposed there was something to the phrase “you get what you give.”

Danny had stayed rooted to the spot when the topic of conversation became clear, reluctant to round the corner and join in. The last thing he wanted to do was participate when it came to that kind of discussion.

“So let me get this straight. You take this woman out for a romantic hike, she ends up getting shot at repeatedly, sustains a head wound and then she doesn’t run away from you, screaming?” Lou asked, incredulity laced in his tone. “Oh, you know how to show them a good time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve said, grin in his voice. 

“Hey, I’m not dissing it. She must be a keeper. Sounds like she’s going to stick around for a while, despite you almost getting her killed.”

“Huh,” Chin said. “You know, the whole thing is giving me a serious case of déjà vu.”

“Déjà vu.” Steve sounded confused. “What do you mean?”

“I just seem to recall a story about how you started a relationship with another blond who got shot at the same day the two of you met.”

Danny hadn’t even been in the room and he was the butt of the joke. He’d always taken comfort in the fact they did it to his face. He remembered bracing himself for the worst of it – Steve’s derisive reply, something about partnering with Danny being like a life sentence, torture, the fifth circle of hell. He’d heard Lou laugh and Chin chuckle, continue on with all of the expected couples-counseling jokes, but there was nothing from Steve. He supposed nothing was something in this instance. He was used to that from Steve too. Nothing or insults, those were his choices and it made him so goddamned lonely. He had this new little boy in his life and defiantly teenaged Grace and he felt like he actually had no one. Melissa, he couldn’t fool himself with anymore. Steve, he could never have.

He had let the conversation dwindle before he’d finally gone into the offices, and somehow ended up getting roped into undercover work. And he also spent too much time stupidly pleased that Steve did, in fact, know that he had a brain in his head. He couldn’t let go of Steve’s uncharacteristic silence when it came to the teasing about their friendship being more than that. He had to get hold of this thing, this useless emotional attachment, had to stop reading into it.

The operation was easy to get ready for. Danny couldn’t say he was happy to share the work with his nephew, who he loved but was a bit of a dipshit (how far could or should nepotism really go?), but the actual teaching was good. Well, he enjoyed the non life-threatening aspects to it enough that if worse came to worst, he could see it as a second career. He was almost disappointed when the case wrapped up as quickly as it did. Life on campus was exactly the type of distraction he needed, not having Steve in his space all the time.

Checking the car back in and catching a ride back to the Palace with Steve in his truck, that was not the type of distraction he needed. No econ professor would drive a Camaro, so they’d gotten a freaking Prius from the police stock. That, Steve never tried to co-opt once during the brief undercover op, only made a crack about how it fit his bespeckled, tie-wearing alter ego to a T. Danny pulled the car into a slot, signed it back in and got out of the building just as Steve arrived. He ignored the long stare Steve was giving him, climbed in silently. They didn’t talk for a few minutes, and the silence felt heavy like it did so often between them, since he’d gone and done the stupidest thing he’d ever done. Through the silent moments, Steve kept shooting him looks, until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Danny snapped. 

Steve startled, took his eyes off the road for far too long. Danny gestured to the windshield, which Steve looked through for a second, then back to him. Danny ran a hand through his hair, loosened his tie even further, unsettled by the wildness in Steve’s eyes. He recognized it, swallowed hard as if that would fight off the instant dagger of want stabbing into him, low in his gut. Right where it hurt the most, where it was too real. He didn’t even know where they were, but he squawked at the way Steve swerved to the side of the road. Stared out the window, surprised to see how secluded an area Steve had driven them to. He couldn’t place it, but he knew why they were there. 

“Do you still have the glasses?” Steve asked.

“Yes, in my pock–” 

“Put them on.” Steve sounded desperate, ragged. “Danny, put them on.”

“Steve.” 

No. They had to stop. He couldn’t take it, not ever again. Just say no, Danny thought wildly, but he didn’t. He sat there as Steve unbuckled and practically leapt from the truck, trotted to the passenger side. Dragged Danny out, pawing at his pockets – all of them – until he found the glasses and put them on him. 

“God, you don’t even know,” Steve said.

No, that was true. He didn’t have any idea. He nodded. They stood so close Danny could hear every breath, see every individual hair on Steve’s scruffy face, smell the sweat, the need. It wasn’t any kind of surprise attack this time. He wasn’t shocked by being manhandled onto the back seat. He didn’t jerk back when Steve undid his jeans, yanked them just past his ass. He was with it enough to turn his head, exposing his neck to Steve’s mouth instead of reaching up for the kiss it looked like Steve was going for. He had to draw that line. 

“Danny,” Steve rumbled against his throat. “Danny, Danny.”

Steve sounded as wrecked as he felt. Adrenaline. Horniness. That was all it was. He scrabbled his hands to the front of Steve’s jeans, senses overloaded by the feel of Steve’s tongue, wet and soft, his teeth scraping gently. He mumbled broken words, guided Steve with his hands, told him what he wanted. There was room. They could. Then Steve was on the seat on top of him, had to be uncomfortable for him, cramped. Danny didn’t care. They couldn’t do this ever again. Danny had to remember that, remember every second of this.

He opened his mouth, took the head of Steve’s dick into his mouth, swirled his tongue around it. Steve bucked sharply, almost made him choke, but he just relaxed his throat and took it. God, Steve tasted good. He got his hands on Steve’s hips, gained some control just as he felt moist, warm breath ghosting over his own hard cock. Steve took his whole length at once, making Danny gasp. He wished he didn’t know how good Steve was at this, any of it. He tightened his hold on Steve’s hips, increased the force of suction in response, fulfilling a petty need to have Steve never forget that he was good, too.

Always a competition. Danny hummed around Steve, smiled when Steve pressed against his hands, trying so hard to sink further into his mouth. He let his partner piston his hips a little, contented to let Steve fuck his mouth, both satisfied and bereft at Steve abandoning his cock to do so. The glasses got knocked askew, he left them. He released Steve’s hips, ran his fingers along Steve’s ass, trailed them down to toy with his balls. Steve slammed down, held himself there as he came hard. Danny took it all down, licked and sucked until Steve’s cock started to soften. He kept it up, relished Steve’s heaving breaths, the taste of him. 

“Jesus,” Steve ground out, breath hot against his dick.

Danny pivoted his hips slightly toward that heat, the head of his cock catching at Steve’s slick lips. Steve took the hint, engulfing him whole again, sucking hard. Already so close to the edge, Danny released Steve to throw his head back and come, everything whiting out in the pleasure-pain of his orgasm. He let himself drift in the afterglow, stole the time where he could. He felt Steve lift himself off of the seat, heard the rustle of clothes being righted, felt his own pants being tugged back up. Roused when Steve eased onto the bench, sitting at his hip. He saw that look on Steve’s face, the one he couldn’t name. He sat, scooted down and swung his legs down.

“I can’t,” Danny said. His lips felt numb, from sucking Steve off, from regret. He turned and faced Steve, owed himself at least that. “Steve, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Steve asked. 

Danny took off the glasses, tossed them into the passenger seat in front of him. He rubbed his hands through his hair, trying to tame it down. He stared at Steve’s mouth for a second, red and slightly slick. He was an idiot. He couldn’t recover from any of this if he kept letting it happen, and Steve was the one who didn’t know. He put a hand on the side of Steve’s face, almost lost it when Steve tilted into it, closed his eyes. God. He shifted, straddled Steve, watching Steve’s face change from relaxed to wary. 

Once, the first time back in that stupid mothballed apartment, on that plastic sofa, Danny was sure Steve had kissed him. He didn’t know if it had happened. He couldn’t say for sure any of it had, at least for Steve. He licked his lips and then placed them, slightly parted, over Steve’s. Steve reacted immediately, hands spread across his back, one high and one low. Steve opened his mouth, invited Danny to come in. The kiss was soft, tender. Danny made sure to keep it that way, because he couldn’t. He pulled away when Steve’s hands started holding him tighter.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, these one-off sessions of … whatever they are, however we end up fucking in your _truck_ , of all places. I can’t. I screwed it all up,” Danny said. “I nee… I can’t do this again, Steve.”

Danny didn’t really know where they were. He stumbled out of the truck and took off, not looking back even when Steve called after him, sounding nearly anguished. He just kept moving, away.

H50H50H50

It wasn’t hard to find Danny. His partner hadn’t been hiding – his cell was active, the GPS on the Camaro still connected, he hadn’t left the island. Part of him hoped that on some level Danny wanted him to come. It had been two days. Steve hadn’t seen his partner, couldn’t get the guy to return a call. All he’d gotten was a text begging off of work, then silence. Two days. He understood strategic retreat. He couldn’t stop seeing Danny’s face when the mask had fallen, though, didn’t need Danny’s physical presence for that. It haunted his every moment.

All this time.

All this time, Steve had thought … he’d been sure it had all been one-sided, from him. He was a SEAL. He was Naval Intelligence. He spent a lifetime being aware of everything all at once, yet he’d missed Danny. He had to embrace the irony; years of knowing Danny better than anyone, then blanking when it came to the most significant tells. Danny hadn’t been unreadable when it came to their hook-ups because he didn’t care. The opposite was true. Danny had thought it was him who didn’t, put those walls up for self-preservation, took the physical gratification because he thought it was all he was ever going to get and some was better than none. Until it wasn’t anymore. Danny had pulled a play out of Steve’s book, now it was time for him to pull a play out of Danny’s.

Steve stood at the door of the small house, palms slightly sweaty. This was the house where Danny had come with Amber and left with Melissa and a stab wound in the gut. He’d been surprised to find out Danny’d come here, couldn’t imagine that it held positive memories. As for himself, Steve didn’t want to have any kind of conversation here, yet here he was. He wasn’t willing to risk the chance of Danny not returning, of never being able to talk it out at all. He rubbed his hand down the front of his pants. He wasn’t used to the nerves, something he’d spent years drumming out of himself. He knocked, waited. 

Danny answered, wearing a threadbare T-shirt, baggy jeans shorts and slip-on sneakers. He looked ridiculous. Perfect. His lips thinned when he saw it was Steve, but he said nothing. A rant would have been welcome.

“We need to talk,” Steve blurted. 

“Talk,” Danny said slowly. Danny looked pained, the lines around his eyes grew deeper. He didn’t slam the door in Steve’s face. “I think I said enough already.”

“But I didn’t.”

These were the things Steve knew: Danny stayed and that gave him hope. Danny was as unhappy as Steve had ever seen him, but after a moment he sighed, opened the door wider and stood aside. The closer Steve looked at his partner, the more miserable he seemed to be. Not that this was a shock. Danny thought there was no hope at all. Steve had to remedy that. 

He followed Danny through the house, to the lanai. The ocean waves sounded different here, the stars brighter than in the city. It was beautiful here, peaceful. Steve could understand why Danny had come to this place after all, if he felt like he’d needed to escape something.

“For someone who came to talk, you’re not saying much,” Danny said. He had his hands shoved in his pockets now, defenses high. “I understand if you don’t think you can work with me anymore.”

“What? No!” Steve said. “I would never want you gone.”

But of course Danny would anticipate the worst case scenarios. It was what he did. The problem Steve was having was that he preferred action to words, but all along he thought his actions were saying something. They were, only he and Danny had the wrong dictionaries, were always just around the corner from one another. He wanted to kiss that worried look off of Danny’s face so, so much, but knew that would be taken wrong at this point.

“Then what?”

Danny’s countenance was drawn, pale, his eyes dark and almost cold. Steve sank into a cushioned chair, paralyzed by the horrible thought he’d gotten it wrong. His plan had been to bare it all, no hesitation. Now he wasn’t sure if he should. He took a deep breath.

“You said you couldn’t do what we were–” Steve waggled a hand between them a few times. “–anymore.”

“I recall,” Danny said drily, “with painful clarity.”

“Why?”

“Why? Why is it a painful memory or why shouldn’t we …” Danny mimicked Steve’s hand waggle.

“I need to know why you think we shouldn’t.” Steve’s heart was beating fast. “I just need to know, Danny.”

“Can’t we leave it at a being a bad idea for us to fuck each other’s brains out and try to work together at the same time? We don’t seem to be doing either very well.” 

The second Danny finished speaking, Steve watched realization flash across his face. His partner jammed his hands in his pockets and his shoulders went up, defensive. It was enough for Steve. However valid Danny’s argument, it wasn’t what had made him want to stop. Based on body language, Danny was fairly screaming that wasn’t the truth. Steve had learned his lesson, paid close attention to his partner. He could still be wrong, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t. 

“No,” Steve said. He stood, placed himself in front of Danny, and after that it all came spilling out. “We can’t leave it at that, because you have to know something. You have to know I was trying to stop myself from touching you. I was trying to stop, Danny. I knew if we kept going down that road, I would drown in it. I knew I had to stop to save myself, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it, and it felt like I was drowning anyway when you did what I couldn’t.”

“Are you saying…” Danny said, quiet. “What are you saying?”

“God knows I’m messed up. You know you’ve got your issues, too.” Steve smiled at the way Danny just nodded. “I’m saying that somewhere along the way I fell for you. Screwing around with you, well, I was taking what I thought I could get where I could get it. I thought if I couldn’t have you – all of you – then at least there was that. And at the same time, I had to find a way to make it easier for me to deny because I was certain you weren’t with me, so I’ve pushed and picked at you and been an asshole and I’m sorry.”

Danny’s defensive posture had started to relax halfway through Steve’s speech. His hands hung at his sides, but not for long – he ran them through his hair, as if trying to smooth something already set in place. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Since they’d started their thing. He shook his head while his hands were still in his hair, giving him a vaguely wild look when he was done.

“You.” Danny looked dazed, now. “Fell. For _me_?”

“Yeah.” 

“How long?”

Steve didn’t want to scare Danny. He couldn’t say for sure when the fall had happened, though he knew it had been before he’d laid one stupid hand on Danny. He wanted so much to believe he wasn’t projecting that cautious hopefulness on Danny’s somber face.

“The whole time, Danny, and I needed you to know that, okay, in case…” Steve said, left it a shrug and a gaze at the ground.

In case it was reciprocal. In case it wasn’t. In case it was the truck that got Danny’s engine going, not him. In case it was reciprocal. In case it was the last thing he ever said to Danny as his partner. When the silence lasted a long moment, Steve chanced a look up, found Danny still dazed, but smiling. He nearly had to sit again. 

In case it was reciprocal.

“Jesus, we really are fucked up,” Danny said.

That was the only prelude to a kiss Steve got, and if he thought what they’d been doing, one-sided as it’d been, had been great, nothing could compare to being kissed by Danny Williams and knowing it meant … everything. He wrapped his arms around Danny, humming his approval as Danny did the same. There was none of the fraught urgency they’d always employed before here, none of the desperation. It was simply two people finally being at the same place at the same time. If given the chance, Steve thought he could stay this way with Danny forever.

Except. Except _more_ , as Danny’s hands slipped under his shirt, spread across his back possessively. Steve moved his right hand up to the nape of Danny’s neck, a spot he loved for some indefinable reason. He began to steer Danny the general direction of a chaise lounge he’d seen. He drew from the kiss when Danny hit the edge of the seat, relished the disappointed moan that wrenched from his partner. He stared at Danny’s lips, his mussed hair, his eyes dark with need.

“Danny,” he said, not caring how choked he sounded. “Please…?”

He didn’t know what he was asking, or why. He just wanted so badly, had harbored fears this wouldn’t happen until the moment Danny kissed him.

“No,” Danny said. He pulled his hands free, extricated himself from Steve’s hold. “Not here. I have an idea.”

Steve felt momentarily frustrated at the loss of contact but his heart continued to race. Danny grabbed his hand, let him into the house. Instead of taking him to the bedroom or even the sofa, Danny paused to scoop up two throws and continued leading them out the front door. Stopped when they reached the Silverado. He looked at Danny. 

“I figured we both needed to exorcise some demons,” Danny said. 

“Yeah,” Steve said. He took the throws from Danny. “Yeah, we probably do.”

“Let me take you to bed, Steve.”

Chuckling at the bad pun and a little surprised at how easy this was all going, Steve put the tailgate down and spread the throws into the truck. This wasn’t how he’d imagined it going, but give their history, it was perfect. He hopped into the truck, offered his hand to Danny, who took it and scrambled up next to him. His hands were back on Steve immediately, tugging at his T-shirt.

“What do you want, Danny?” he asked

Without pause, Danny said, “I want it all. Eventually, I want that. Tonight, I just want to touch you like I mean it.”

Danny eased Steve’s shirt off, fingertips and lips skimming along skin as he went. He was careful but not cautious. Loving. Jesus, Steve was so gone. He relaxed into Danny’s exploration, gave up control for the first time in a long time. He let himself be stripped bare and laid out under the wide open sky. Danny covered every inch of him, building a slow burn. He wasn’t passive, though, touching his partner wherever his hands could reach. It was a heady feeling, doing this with instead of to Danny. His left hand reached the waistband of Danny’s shorts; he realized he was maybe going too slowly.

“Clothes,” Steve murmured, tugging at the shorts. “Get your clothes off.”

Danny shimmied free of his shorts, shoes kicked off and out of the truck. The moment they were both completely unencumbered by clothing was a catalyst, total nakedness a first for them. This wasn’t a manic mutual jerk-off fueled by mistaken impressions and the threat of being caught out in public. God, Steve could look at Danny for hours, just enjoying the compact musculature of his small frame, that ass, everything. After. He’d do that after. 

The energy shifted from unhurried to feverish, as Danny pushed him back and straddled him. He stretched, pressing himself close and kissing Steve wet and messy. He wriggled against Steve, kept one arm braced to hold some of his weight, sneaked a hand between them, rubbing his fingertips over the head of their cocks for scant amounts of lubrication that might give them. Clever, quick. Danny lined them up, gave an experimental thrust. 

Steve groaned into the kiss, clutched his hands at Danny’s back, trailed them down to that amazing ass and held on. His hips bucked automatically, meeting Danny’s thrusts, not perfectly at first, but they got better with each passing moment. He shifted his hands to Danny’s hips, guided him, encouraged him to go faster, harder. The message was received. They rocked together, no longer kissing but their lips still touched as they gasped into each other’s mouths. 

Danny wrenched back, lifting his torso, which gave him better leverage and an angle on something Steve hadn’t thought needed improvement. He saw stars. Literally. All he could see was Danny’s face, contorted from exertion and pleasure, and the vast expanses of stars above them. Figuratively as well, as one perfect glide of their cocks had Steve coming before he knew he was close to doing so. He lost his hold on Danny, partly on his consciousness, but he stayed with it enough to feel Danny increase his pace, rhythm going to hell, and the splash of Danny’s come joining his. He basked in it, loved when Danny collapsed, half next to him, half on top of him. 

Call it afterglow, call it a lifetime of never expecting to get what he wanted the moment felt surreal. Steve felt and heard Danny’s every breath. He changed his position slightly, turned himself until he was facing his partner.

“You know I’m probably still going to drive you nuts and will sometimes be an asshole about it, right?” Steve asked, meaning _I love you_.

“Of course,” Danny said, half-smiling and clearing his throat. “To keep things equal, I can probably find it in me to continue driving you nuts and will also manage to be an asshole about it.”

All Steve heard was _I love you_.


End file.
